Never the Hero
by ketsuouji
Summary: The one who really needed to come to terms with things was Ginoza.
Inspired by the prompt "It was unlikely that I'd ever become the hero you need".

This was supposed to be just a standalone thing but I guess my obsession with the fact that Kougami can't keep his word is all-consuming and I can't escape it haha. So I suppose my first fic is now a part of a small series and we'll just call this a part two. :3

This is my first time directly writing from Kougami's point of view so all the apologies if this reads OOC for anyone at all. I'm also aware I probably skewed the timeline of this particular event to fit, but the outcome is the same just with more feelings and ugly crying on my part.

Part 2 of the Broken Promises series. 

* * *

Masaoka had told Kougami to find a way to help Tsunemori come to terms with his decision to leave. That made sense. She cared quite deeply for Kougami as a friend and teammate and it would hurt to know he was gone, choosing a life that would lead to nothing but an absolute guarantee of death over her and everyone else.

But there was a coded message in that as well. Years ago, Masaoka had promised not to interfere in anything between Kougami and Ginoza. Their relationship was complicated enough on its own without that added tension. But this was different. This was an ending. He hadn't broken his word but Kougami was sharp enough to catch his meaning.

Tsunemori really didn't need help coming to terms with anything. He could give her only so much comfort because she'd never truly swallow the idea. She would be sad and angry and most likely give chase — it was inevitable as long as Makishima was still drawing breath and Kougami knew the hunt would never end so long as he was — but she would survive. She'd survived worse. And maybe that thought was cruel of him, but he felt that way because she'd shown him her strength and resilience even in tears.

The one who really needed help was Ginoza.

Their relationship hadn't exactly been everything he had once hoped it would be. The job was a weight that rested too heavily on Ginoza's thin shoulders. It wasn't that Kougami thought him weak, he was simply aware that the Ginoza he knew and loved couldn't truly thrive that way. He was far more kind and gentle than he ever let on and he craved companionship besides. Kougami had wanted to be that for him but Ginoza shut him out more often than not. Despite his good intentions he was so often kept at arm's length, as if Ginoza feared that letting him get too close could result in Psycho-Hazard. It hurt but as long as they could be together, Kougami had grown to live with it. Take what he could get. They had had their moments. Those were more frequent early on but recently they had all but stopped. In his opinion, that had only made Ginoza worse. But trying to get the other man to listen and take that to heart would be impossible and so he hadn't bothered. Knowing him, Ginoza would probably think Kougami was just being selfish even if nothing was further from the truth. Kougami didn't need a cymatic scan to know Ginoza's Hue was clouding. His Crime Coefficient was probably climbing more rapidly than ever too. He was wound so tight Kougami was surprised he hadn't snapped already. That Masaoka was asking, even in that roundabout way, hinted at how dire the situation really was. It wasn't as if they were close but Masaoka was his father. Estranged or not, the man had an even better sense for these things than he did. But Kougami simply couldn't stay, not even for that.

There was too much on the line. He had wanted to be a detective and uphold the law and that was what he was doing. In his way. The only right way, as far as he could see. He couldn't trust the System to make the right choices when it seemed more concerned with Makishima's safety than serving the justice that was sorely deserved, so it was time to take matters into his own hands to make sure someone did.

But no matter how Kougami dressed things up he knew those other reasons didn't really matter. At the heart of it all was that need that had plagued him for years. An obsession with seeking justice and closure. He needed to avenge Sasayama and all the victims he'd let down by letting Makishima slip through his fingers twice now. He knew he couldn't live with himself if it went any other way. There would be no third strike.

Masaoka seemed to understand that or at the very least accepted that he wasn't going to be able to talk Kougami out of it. After all, if thoughts of Ginoza and Tsunemori hadn't changed his mind, what could he really say that would sway Kougami? At the very least he could ensure the greatest likelihood of success. Kougami would always be grateful for that and so he promised that he would do his best for the others before he left.

Right, Pops. I will do my best to soften the blow so that your son — my best friend and the man I love — can find some reason to go on and not spiral down into that dark place he won't be able to climb out of.

The man he loved.

Kougami couldn't remember when exactly he had put words to what he'd felt for such a long time but it was just another bullet point that didn't ultimately change a thing. It wasn't enough. That was no one's fault. It wasn't because Ginoza had pushed him away and alienated him even after he'd been so angry when he'd felt like Kougami had done the same to him. It simply was that when Kougami had laid awake at night thinking and agonising about his decisions he couldn't escape those ghosts that haunted him. They were strong and Kougami was only too aware that chasing them would only lead to more pain. He would never have happiness. It apparently just wasn't in the cards for him. He could find peace with himself or something like it but that was all. Whatever he felt for Ginoza was warm and comforting but it could never give him that sense of peace. Kougami accepted this because he had to, but it didn't stop it from feeling like he was killing a part of himself at the same time.

—

Ultimately, Kougami had chosen to write a letter. He'd always been surprisingly good at that. Pouring his feelings and his thoughts out face to face didn't always go as planned because things would get heated all too easily, but when he wrote them it always seemed to just flow. All the right words and all the things he wanted to say, exactly how he wanted to say it. The letter was addressed to Tsunemori but the trick was in the placement, ensuring that Ginoza would be the one to find it first.

Kougami knew Ginoza would read it, either because he couldn't resist out of worry or curiosity or because he would convince himself he was doing it for Tsunemori's own good to screen it first. He was always so concerned that her Hue would be clouded by Kougami's actions but there was nothing about the words on those pages that should make him want to withhold it from her. Just the fact that Kougami was leaving at all was damaging enough. Ginoza was smart enough to know that and realise one letter wasn't going to change what was already their painful reality. Keeping his last words from her could only make it worse, as it was. When it eventually found its way to Tsunemori she would still be able to understand it even if it was only for her indirectly. That was the beauty of it. It was penned so that the words and phrases were general enough to still apply to her — and honestly, it wasn't as if he hadn't wanted to say those same things to her as well — but there were certain points that would only jump out to the person they were truly intended for.

Once again, he waited until it was late.

This time, however, he wasn't hoping for company. Ideally, Ginoza had gone home by then and he would find the Division office unoccupied. He'd spent a long time in the gym sparring with the combat AI over and over again. Drilling those moves that were already second nature to him before he didn't get another chance. Next time it would be the real thing. The holo options were limited but he'd picked the closest thing to Makishima, trying to imagine what it would be like when he finally caught up to the criminal again. He could think about them trading blow after blow, intermingled with Makishima's dry sense of humour. Quoting literature so he could smirk when Kougami knew just the words with which to counter his examples. It kept him focused; after he had written those words he had felt his heart aching. Its death throes, no doubt.

Once he had showered and dressed again he made his way down the empty corridor. It was odd how many times he had walked it in the past several years but he had never looked at it as closely as he did now. It was the last time he'd ever see it, after all. The building was a prison for Enforcers but it was also home. He'd had plenty of good memories in that place as well. Arriving at the office, he looked in through the glass and could see nothing but empty terminals illuminated by the gentle glow of the servers and the monitors that remained switched on. It was an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu. At least before he still had so much to look forward to.

He pressed the button that opened the door and stepped inside, taking in as much of the dark room as he could. He could smell the familiar odor of stale coffee and the remnants of his own cigarettes, growing more pronounced as he passed his desk. He really should have done something about those stacked up ashtrays that were overflowing with cigarette butts, but it was too late to think about that now. As he moved farther in he caught the scent of chocolate and knew it had to be coming from Kagari's desk. The kid never failed to have some sort of sweet thing on hand. Kougami had pilfered a few jellybeans out of the massive jar more than once. The thought brought a nostalgic smile to his face that was marred somewhat by the thought that no one had heard from Kagari and the trail was growing colder by the day. Wherever he was, Kougami hoped things were better..

Kougami was about to step around the row of computers to get to Tsunemori's terminal where he could leave the envelope and his holo-device there in plain sight. There it would be found in the morning whenever Ginoza showed up at his usual unreasonably early hour of the day, but he stopped cold when he noticed that the desk on the opposite side of the row wasn't empty. He exhaled slowly, having been startled.

It wasn't the first time Kougami had found Ginoza asleep nearly on the keyboard and while it never ceased to be worrisome there was something strangely endearing about it too. It reminded him of their high school days when he'd catch Ginoza doing the exact same thing, usually slumped over his tablet when he'd dozed off in the middle of studying. If he was being honest with himself he felt more worry right now than anything else. Typically, if he was going to find Ginoza there working after hours it was just like that night three years ago, more or less. Even if he didn't make it home, at the very least he would leave to get a little rest on a couch in one of the lounges in the building. For him to simply doze off in the middle of something meant Ginoza really was in worse shape than he was letting on. When it came to things like that, Kougami hated being right.

He knew this case was taking a lot out of Ginoza, but he had hoped things might settle a little now. Chief Kasei was coming down on Ginoza hard and even if his Coefficient didn't spike there were other ways his career could be in danger. He would have thought with all the interference that Ginoza would have given up after his last plan had failed. It was the furthest he'd ever stepped outside the lines of proper protocol and Ginoza had gotten just a taste of just how severe the consequences could be for doing that. Something seemed to have changed, however, or else he would be at home like Kougami had expected. Maybe it was some influence he'd picked up from Tsunemori. Kougami hoped that was it; the thought that Ginoza was working himself to the bone to try and protect him because clearly Sibyl saw Kougami as a significant threat left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He took the letter and set it down right where he intended to, weighing one end down with a nearby coffee mug and setting his holo-device right beside it. Kougami turned and had every intention of leaving but he found his attention wandering back over to the other man asleep at the computer.

This is stupid. You dodged one bullet not getting caught. Just get out of here already..

Sticking to his original plan would have been the wisest way to go but Kougami was, unfortunately, also a man given to acting on his impulses. Clearly, or else the 'original plan' wouldn't even exist. He made his way over quietly and was relieved when the Inspector didn't even stir. The dark circles under Ginoza's eyes confirmed what Kougami had been thinking. He really was exhausted — probably in every way possible. Sitting at the desk was hardly an ideal place to get any proper rest but Kougami supposed some sleep was better than none at all. He couldn't exactly wake him and tell him to go home because that would raise too many other questions. Too many other feelings . He was torn enough as it is. The only reason he was lingering there was because something just wouldn't let him leave before seeing him for what could easily be the last time.

Ginoza's head rested on one arm, his hair mussed a little but not enough to make the long strands cover his face entirely. Kougami's logic was fighting a losing battle as he set a hand on the desk and leaned closer. It was all he could do to have that last, stolen look. It was painful enough that he had to settle only for that when he would have given anything for just one more night together. He wanted to etch everything into his memory forever but the most he was going to get was one last image. There was always a chance they might run into each other at some point in the future, especially if they were hunting the same prey. But not like this. Never again like this. In sleep the tension left Ginoza completely and Kougami was treated to the rare sight of seeing him at peace. They were the same age and yet the severe expression the Inspector typically wore always made him seem older and harsher. Before he realised what he was doing, Kougami carefully removed his glasses — which were all askew now — and then brushed a bit of that long hair out of the way, tucking it back gently behind Ginoza's ear.

He immediately regretted it as he heard Ginoza take a deep breath and shift a little in his seat. His hand was still dangerously close, hovering just beside Ginoza's head but he didn't want to move at the wrong moment. Kougami's eyes closed and he felt his stomach drop a little when he felt the Inspector bump against his fingers gently, almost as if he was trying to lean into that ghost of a touch. Kougami pulled away after Ginoza settled again and took a step back, finally turning to get out of there.

"... Kou.." The word came out in a low rasp of a whisper, his voice thick with sleep, but Kougami could hear it clear enough. He felt a chill run down his spine as he paused and looked back over his shoulder, expecting the worst. Despite the fact that he'd spoken, Ginoza didn't appear to be awake. Surely there would have been more to it than that if he was and the peaceful look would have vanished. Rather, he even seemed to be wearing what looked to be the smallest of smiles.

Whatever you're thinking.. whatever dream it is you're having now.. I wish you could always remember me like that and smile.

But since I know you can't because come the morning you'll know I've betrayed you.. again..

I hope you can forgive me someday. Or forget me. Whatever it takes, Gino, just find a way to be happy..

Kougami felt his throat tighten and he knew his time was up. He needed to go. Now. If he didn't he wasn't sure he would ever be able to. He would trip himself up and talk himself into believing that he should stay and treasure that, seeking ways to help Ginoza look that content while he was actually awake. It was a nice, sentimental dream but a dream was all it was and all it would ever be. If there was anything to be said about destiny Kougami knew his lay elsewhere. "I'm sorry.." He said, more mouthing the words than truly saying them.

And then he was gone, leaving it all behind.


End file.
